


Come Put Your Lips on Mine and Shut Me Up

by naberiie



Series: Maybe We're From the Same Star: Arcmaiden (Fives/Rabé) ✵ [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Established Relationship, F/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naberiie/pseuds/naberiie
Summary: If your girlfriend is a highly trained royal handmaiden of Naboo, who just so happens to be the weapons and combat expert of her group, who just got back from a month-long undercover mission in the drug dens of the Outer Rim, perhaps it's not the best idea to surprise her by breaking into her apartment, Fives.





	Come Put Your Lips on Mine and Shut Me Up

Rabé stifled a huge yawn as she lugged her bags down the narrow apartment hallway. Though she’d been careful to pack only the essentials, it still felt like she was struggling with dense lead. Like someone had amped up the gravity just to annoy her. From behind one door, she could hear a large family having an argument over dinner. Someone else was watching a holodrama, the dramatic music rising and falling in time with the action. Sabé had somehow managed to acquire the block of three rooms as a semi-permanent rest house for the trio of handmaidens. And Rabé appreciated how casually her sister had mentioned Coruscant would be another base of operations now. “Closer to the action,” she had said, but the spark in her eyes told Rabé it was not the only reason for choosing Coruscant.

 _Gods_ but she was exhausted. A four-week mission in the Outer Rim had left Rabé and her sisters dirty, disheveled, and testing the limits of their patience – both with the mission and each other. There was nothing more she wanted to do than shower and then fall into bed. Fives wasn’t due back until tomorrow, at the earliest (she’d memorized the rough outline of the 501 st’s schedule weeks ago) and she was planning on spending every second fast asleep up until the moment he arrived. But the thrill at the mere thought of seeing him, of being able to hold and touch and _kiss_ him again, made her second guess her plans.

They hadn’t even been able to _talk_ that often for the past four weeks. Sabé had gotten the signal from her Underworld contact much sooner than they had been expecting, and Rabé had just barely managed to send Fives a regretful apology before Eirtaé cut the comms. She knew he had seen it, because as they flew into Coruscant not even an hour ago, her recently-revived datapad hummed with dozens of messages:

 _What, you think ‘going undercover’ and ‘dealing with the Hutts’ and ‘other major crime organizations involved in a massive drug war’ are good enough excuses to get me to stop talking to you? You underestimate my powers of annoyance, Rabé – and_ unlike _that one time when I underestimated your skills in the sparring ring, this time it’s for real! I’ve been practicing, you can ask Rex or Echo. Nah, girl, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. Being a badass undercover spy isn’t going to scare me away (in fact, it’s safe to assume that’s gonna have the opposite effect) ;)_

She’d giggled out loud at that one, and the first few messages after it, too. Fives always made her laugh – he always said how good it was to finally have someone other than Hardcase as an appreciative audience. But then, after the second week, the messages became simpler, more sincere – single lines that embraced Rabé’s heart, the closest thing she could get to his arms wrapped around her again.

_I understand. I miss you._

  _I love you._

_Please stay safe._

He’d sent them all, dozens and dozens, at roughly the same time – 0700 and 2300. When he woke, and right when he went to bed. Every day. As much for his sake as it was for hers. Of course, there were multiple occasions where it was the opposite – when he was under ordered radio silence, she had technological freedom – and then the roles would switch.

 _Please stay safe_.

Their mantra to each other, to themselves, for themselves. _Stay safe._

Rabé keyed the lock, shoved the door open with her hip and pushed her things in with a quiet grunt of frustration.

It was a testament to the level of her exhaustion that it took her a few moments to notice the lights were already on.

Sabé and Eirtaé had gone to meet with Padmé and give her their reports. They wouldn’t be back for hours. Rabé was alone.

She immediately cursed and dropped into a crouch, twisting her wrist so the slim vibroblade she kept strapped to her forearm slipped out of its catch. Images of angry Hutts, or spicelords, or any of the dozens of slimy underworld figureheads they’d just made a mockery of raced through her mind. She tugged the rest of her luggage through the door and slowly closed it as she peered around the foyer. She couldn’t hear anything in the rooms beyond, not an impatient scuffle of feet, or a quickly hushed cough. Her breath stilled in her lungs as she slunk forward. Slowly, slowly, any remaining exhaustion in her blood driven out by pure adrenaline, Rabé gripped the handle of her vibroblade and pressed herself into the wall opposite the door. All she could hear was the steady drone of Coruscant traffic, but she counted out three slow minutes – enough time that any intruder would shuffle in discomfort. They hadn’t come to investigate the sound of the door, which was good. And bad. Maybe the intruder was waiting, just around the corner, counting down the seconds, just as trained, just as patient as she.

 _Screw this,_ Rabé thought, her frown deepening in annoyance. _I want to take a shower._

She sprang up, rounded the corner, blade at the ready, and –

Fives was fast asleep on the couch. Flat on his back, snoring away like a Wookiee, in his blacks and belt and leg armor, as casually as you please. Her heart jumped and leapt and her wrist flicked and the vibroblade slid back into its hiding place as she stared at him, half in loving wonder and half in horrified realization she had almost just stabbed her boyfriend.

 _Fives...?_ Rabé blinked, rubbed her eyes, made sure she was not hallucinating the ARC trooper on the couch, before her face split into a massive grin. Joy lit a fire in her belly and she could barely gasp out his name before dissolving into breathless, delighted laughter.

His eyelids cracked open and his grin was instant, deep warm love in his umber eyes. “Hey, you, welcome back,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse and absolutely the loveliest sound in all the universe. Fives yawned and sat up, running a hand through his thick black hair. He opened his arms, beckoning her to him with a single, unspoken word. She almost tackled him over the back of the couch.

“What are you – you weren’t supposed to get in until _tomorrow-_ ” She tripped over the words as she took his hands in her own, their fingers intertwining as she straddled his lap, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Her entire body molded over his own, her knees melded to the outside of his thighs. Her words drifted off into small noises of pleasure when his arms wrapped around her, when his hands started to draw circles over her dusty travel robes.

He smelled like sweat and blaster ammo, like sharp metal and stale air, like fierce, unabashed, brilliantly white-hot life – she thought, as his hands traveled over her back, cupping her closer to him, he smelled exactly like a star.

“Ah, are you that disappointed to see me?” He teased, his breath maddeningly warm on her head. He shifted slightly on the couch to let her settled into a more comfortable position, the slight twitch of his hip sending tiny sparks of electricity racing through her blood. “I wanted to surprise you.”

She didn’t want to tell him just _how_ well he had surprised her, though.

Rabé hummed into his neck, “I missed you,” and then, as if literally straddling him on the couch wasn’t proof enough, she reluctantly pulled away, just enough to brush her lips over his, as she whispered it again, “I missed you.”

Fives groaned, softly, as she up a little straighter and curved her body over his, giving a full, deep kiss. His lips were slightly chapped, but they were soft and warm and Rabé didn’t ever want to pull away. She would happily spend the rest of her life on this couch, with this man. Her arms were locked around his neck, just as his were fully embracing her tiny frame into his chest.

She broke the kiss, reluctantly, and pressed her forehead to his. He was grinning madly, and she was sure she was, too, but she wasn’t yet finished. She gently pulled his face down, his breath coming quicker now, distracting and maddening and wonderful on her throat, and she pressed her lips to his tattoo, the simple ink of the simple number that now made her heart flutter every time she saw the number ‘five’ anywhere.

It was her favorite number in the entire galaxy, so she kissed it again, and again, and then, deciding she couldn’t very well leave the rest of his face so unadorned, reacquainted herself, relearned the shape of his cheekbones and nose and eyelids and jawline with her lips. Fives’ grip on her had tightened, his eyes shut, a smile hovering on his lips that sometimes slipped into a soft gasp, a small desperate noise, begging her to continue.

And so she did, kissing his ear before her lips traveled down his throat, peppering it with kisses – sometimes gentle, mostly not. Fives was rocking under her touch, low groans of pleasure escaping his throat with every kiss.

She’d just made it to the edge of his blacks when he hoisted her up and kissed her full on the mouth. Fives leaned back against the couch and murmured against her lips, “So, I’m confused – did you miss me?” He started to laugh at his own joke, just as she knew he would, as Rabé groaned good-naturedly and pressed forward to kiss him again, to get him to stop teasing. “It’s just – a little – _unclear-_ ”

“ _Fives_ ,” she groaned, also laughing under his kisses. “You talk too much.”

**Author's Note:**

> This can be considered a sequel scene to the longer fic currently in the works for Fives/Rabé, most likely a year into their relationship. The longer work will heavily feature Rabé, Eirtaé, and Sabé, as well as Anakin, Ahsoka, and the main boys of the 501st. If all goes to plan, I hope to have the first chapter up soon!
> 
> Written for an fic request on my tumblr, @naberiie
> 
> -Title inspiration is 'Talk Too Much' by COIN-


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